


get a room

by SpiritTamer



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, Plot What Plot, i wrote this in less than an hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritTamer/pseuds/SpiritTamer
Summary: a very small inn, horrible timing, and too many gay cowboys





	

“C’mon, mon amour, we have the night.”

Half drunk, half tired, Goodnight and Billy waved a goodbye to those still downstairs, Chisholm and Emma discussing their plans over and over again, while Red Harvest sat back, quietly listening in. The second they were out of site, Goodnight wrapped a strong arm around his lover's shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw, tumbling back to their room together. 

“Sure no one else is up here?” Billy asked, almost tripping over his own boots. Maybe they’d all had too much to drink, by the end of the night Faraday had started naming his shot glasses. 

“Nah-” Goodnight shrugged the question off. “Vasquez disappeared a little while ago, probably to pass out, Horne wouldn’t notice.” He grabbed at Billy’s collar and drew them nose to nose. “Besides, chère, no one’s gonna bother us.”

It wasn’t that they were worried about the rest of the group judging them- they’d all killed men, Vasquez with a bounty on his head, and Goodnight himself not forgetting any part of the war. Surely they could turn a blind eye to their relationship.

The strangest would be the problem. They were humble people, Billy letting Goodnight do most of the talking, and keeping their feelings on the down low just made sense, and made them feel safer. 

“Aight, Goody.” Billy moved in to kiss Goodnight again, just a soft peck, he’d get plenty later. Not paying attention to how far down the upstairs hallway they had gotten, he reached for the doorknob to the nearest room, assuming it was there own, and stumbled in. 

“Arrodillarse para mí, hermosa,” 

“Cut it with the Mexican, I can’t understand y- oh.”

Two figures flush against each other greeted their eyes, one kept secure against the back wall by the other. Hats off, loose bandanas and flushed faces, the positions and conversation(or at least, what they heard) alluded to, well, something not very heterosexual or innocent.

“Uh- Goodnight, Billy!” Faraday managed, retracting his own body from Vasquez's, plastering on a wide and obviously fake smile. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Vasquez, meanwhile, still leaning against the wall, had gone stiff as a board, arms weak at his sides. His face was crimson red, and there were some not-so-hidden red marks across his neck. Not to mention the fact that his belt was half undone, gun holsters at his hips. 

“What the fuck.” Billy said in complete monotone, face gone carefully deadpan. 

“I think,” Goodnight ran a hand over his face, eyes wide, as if he’d seen a ghost. “We have the wrong room.” 

Faraday laughed nervously, and nudged an unresponsive Vasquez in the shoulder. “Nah, no way, you’ve got the wrong idea! Just cowboys being cowbros!” He shook Vasquez again. “Isn’t that right?”

“I think I’m going to faint.” The Mexican replied softly, and fell forward to half slump on Faraday’s shoulder. Despite his statement, the man remained awake, mumbling something, no doubt profanity, in his native tongue.

The two turned to leave, Billy going from blank to uncomfortable, but they were stopped by Faraday’s words.

“Hang on- if you were going up to your room, together, not to mention you’re attached at the hip right now- doesn’t that imply…”

Goodnight stopped him with a finger to his lips. Vasquez looked interested now, shifting up to stand crossed armed next to his partner. “Sí, both are at fault.”

“Listen,” Billy had tried to drag Goodnight away by the arm, but he remained still. “Not a word about this encounter leaves this room, okay?” For a moment, everyone was quiet, the only noise the soft murmur from downstairs, and the fluttering of the curtains in the room’s open window.

The other party both raised their hands, Faraday nodding. “Deal.”

 

. . .

 

“Betcha a bottle of whiskey it was Billy and Goody last night.” Sam said as he gave a nod to Emma, who leaned against the railing outside the inn, looking over to cock an eyebrow at him.

“You owe me twenty if it was Faraday and Vasquez.” She retorted, swaying off to take the bet, hands on her sides.

“You’re a losing gal, but alright.” The bounty hunter replied, tipping his hat.

Silent before, Red Harvest perked up from the other side of the porch, muttering something in Comanche to Chisholm. 

“We owe him 50 if it was both groups.” He explained for her, to which she nodded back to the native man. She seemed skeptical- they both did, but shrugged anyways.

Only a few moments later, and Billy came strolling out of the doors, twirling a silver knife between his fingertips, looking over to everyone as a quick good morning.

Goodnight followed in his footsteps, giddy, loving smile on his face, and Sam smiled slyly to Emma, who scowled. 

Before he could rise to ask for his alcohol, Faraday stumbled out, shuffled deck of cards tucked in his palm as usually. “Howdy, fellas,” He grinned at the group.

“You have limp?” Red asked out of nowhere, gesturing a hand to the way Faraday kept favoring one leg to another, grunting as he took a seat in the chair next to Chisholm's.

“Uh, yeah, busted my- what?” He stopped himself, confused at Sam and Emma’s shocked faces. 

“Well, so how we gonna conjure up 50 dollars?” They both asked to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i wrote this. im supposed to be working on my hamilton fics, but damn i love these two ships.


End file.
